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If you are the owner of a dog in the "dangerous breed" category and also have a young child or are around young children, please take this as a warning:
Do not leave your dog unattended with young children under any circumstances!
All it takes is a moment for something to happen:
Sorry, I couldn't resist that. Got it in an e-mail today from my aunty.
(thanks, Aunty Pam!)
Tiny dog run outside the Virgin America baggage claim at LAX.
(thanks, Mel!)
The day before Thanksgiving, one of Arthur's foot pads got infected and he had to go to the doctor and have the fur shaved off his little toe. The pad eventually healed, but the fur took a long time to grow back and looked really weird. Like a creepy fat finger.
We should've painted his toenail black.
I saw the signs, but where were the dogs?
The most famous dog in Japan! You probably already know the story (which was apparently made into a movie directed by Lasse Hallström and released last August?), but in case you don't, here's the five-second version: Man has faithful dog. Man takes train to work every day. Dog shows up at station every night to meet man. Man dies. Dog continues to wait. FOR 10 YEARS.
Impressed by the dog's unwavering loyalty, the Japanese government erected a statue in Hachiko's honor outside Shibuya station, now one of the busiest meeting points in all of Tokyo. (You might recognize the intersection in the background of the photo from Lost in Translation.) The crowds come and go, but the dog never moves.
Pretty sweet.
You know you're in Japan when you can buy a kimono and a geisha wig for your dog in the local pet boutique. Wow.
Chris and I were in Japan for 10 days over Thanksgiving, and we stumbled on this crazy shop in the Asakusa neighborhood of Tokyo, a block away from our hotel and down the street from a very old, revered temple. I was keen to buy the wig for Arthur (he'd make such an elegant courtesan), but there were only small sizes available, and Chris gave me his don't-do-it look where he stares at the ground and shakes his head disparagingly. (He's Arthur's advocate for dignity.) So, no geisha.
shop for your dog,
then go pray in the temple
daruma!
I actually expected to see many stores in Tokyo like this one, stuffed to excess with wild and crazy things, but there were surprisingly few. Maybe I wasn't shopping in the right neighborhoods. I did like the selection of treats at the gigantic Tokyu Hands store in Shibuya, which is kind of like a Japanese version of Target multiplied by ten.
Great packaging, but what do the labels say? I have no idea.
If I didn't know better, I'd have eaten (almost) all of that stuff. There was even a tiny Belgian waffle! I ended up bringing Arthur home a bag of crunchy vanilla balls – a dog version of the snack I used to eat as a kid.
Deeelicious.
Today's Arthur is moving! I'm in the process of switching the blog to another host, but it shouldn't be too much longer. I hope.
Next post: dogs in Japan!
UPDATE: The new web site is taking a lot longer than I'd anticipated (mostly because I'm doing it myself), so I'll be posting here until it's up and running. sigh
The new steps off the kitchen aren't finished yet, and Arthur feels a bit put out.
He wants a red carpet.
Hahahahaha! This has to be one of my all-time favorite dog photos. It was taken by a Dutch/Brazilian photographer named Isabella Rozendaal, as part of a series for her book On Loving Animals, and it could not be more awesome. The look on that dog's face! And that puppy chomp! Oh, man.
While the book as a whole documents the way the Dutch people, like many people, treat their animals in the name of love, this particular photo is pure slapstick.
So great.
Isabella Rozendaal
(note: Some of the photos from the book on Rozendaal's Web site might be disturbing for cat lovers.)
Arthur generally doesn't pick up anything in the backyard to chew on aside from the occasional avocado or fig. He's just not that interested. So don't get the wrong idea from this picture of him with a trophy log: I had to throw that damn thing around for five minutes before he would even look at it. I think he chewed on it for approximately 5.6423 seconds before getting bored and trotting off.
At first I was chalking it up to ADD, but now I think he just has good taste. Would you want to chew on a dirty old stick?
I think not.
It's so nice when people with scads of money rescue homeless dogs. It takes so much more humanity, generosity, and imagination, frankly, to rescue a stinky mutt from the pound instead of going to a breeder and be told which dog is "the best." Or worse, going to some sketchy, albeit very expensive, pet store on Madison Avenue and be told by some dollar-driven pseudo specialist which dog has sought-after pedigree. Gross.
Check out this New York Times slideshow of a filthy rich antiques dealer who discovered love with a pack of misfits. It's so nice.
One in 8 Million: Stefanie Rinza
photograph by Todd Heisler
Arthur is very fickle about who his friends are. VERY fickle. When a new person comes to the house, most times he just runs away or stands at a distance, wagging but cautious. Even with people he knows, he will often duck their hands and run for the dining room table.
However, there are a few people — lucky or unlucky depending on how they feel about dogs — with whom he turns into a big, slobbery whore. Grins like an idiot and gazes at them adoringly. Can't leave them alone. I've only seen it happen a few times, and it's kind of embarassing in a don't-mind-him sort of way, but also mystifying. Why that particular person? You can never tell who it's going to be.
Well, my mom and her good friend Ignacio came to the house yesterday, and the game was ON. Arthur loved loved loved Ignacio, who, yes, is a dog lover; and yes, probably smells like his own dog, but good lord. Arthur sat at Ignacio's feet all through lunch, and not because he had cheese on his plate. I was sitting right next door with a big wad of cheese and I didn't get as much as a glance. We were lucky Ignacio doesn't mind having a fuzzy muzzle in his lap while he's eating.
All those years of cotillion down the tubes.
Yeah, I know — this is nothing new. But it never fails to annoy me.From the blogger (Google) Terms of Service:
...you grant Google a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license to reproduce, adapt, distribute and publish such Content for the purpose of displaying, distributing and promoting Google services
I guess you never truly get something for nothing.
Oh, why couldn't this be a dog toy? (It's a plush brain cell.) Also available are the plush common cold virus and the plush sperm cell.
Brain-cell plush at MCA Chicago
Camping with dogs! Doesn't get much better than that.
Check out the blog post and pics from the always amazing Sarah Ause.
Saussie
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